


Olympic Tryouts (part 17)

by jennamacaroni



Series: Olympic Tryouts [17]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 17:44:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2278866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennamacaroni/pseuds/jennamacaroni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana and Brittany have been rivals in the college hockey world for the past four years.  now they’re both at Olympic tryouts to play on the same team and Boston and Minnesota just don’t get along, okay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Olympic Tryouts (part 17)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading and reviewing and sending messages and giving me all the fucking warm and fuzzies about these two idiot hockey players. the reactions from part 16 were priceless, you guys are seriously the best. picking up right where we left off…

If Santana could think of the best feeling she’s ever had, she’d think of hockey. Winning the high school state championship. Getting the invitation to try out for the Olympic team. Scoring the game winning goal when it mattered most, when everyone was counting on her.

None of it comes close to the feeling of elation of kissing Brittany.

This is a whole new feeling. It’s weightlessness, a complete and utter euphoria. A kaleidoscope of vibrant color bursting through a black and white world. Adrenaline surging throughout her body and stirring something inside her she never knew existed. Every nerve ablaze, every muscle electric, every thought consumed with _Brittany, Brittany, Brittany_.

And although she could never describe or explain it, Brittany tastes like home.

As their lips press together, all the air rushes from the room and she’s breathless. The kiss is soft, Brittany’s lips melding into her own for a few precious moments before she pulls away, her eyes drifting open to meet Santana’s, clarity melting quickly to worry.

"Santana, I’m…"

"Don’t say you’re sorry." Santana’s voice is a rough whisper, but the words are clear, the lines on Brittany’s forehead softening as Santana surges forward to capture her lips once more. Her body moves of it’s own accord, one hand tangling in Brittany’s hair, her body shifting on it’s side to be closer. Brittany’s hand moves to the back of Santana’s neck, tugging her forward. Always closer.

As Brittany’s mouth relaxes, Santana pushes her tongue inside and she’s free falling.

Santana never knew a kiss could taste so good.

When they finally pull apart for a few strangled breaths, Brittany presses her free hand to Santana’s chest, her palm flat over an erratic heart. Neither of them speak as they pull in shuddered breaths, the only other sound in the room the wheezing snores coming from Rachel asleep in the adjacent bed. Brittany’s smile could light an entire city and Santana can’t help but return it, grinning so widely her cheeks ache in protest.

"Wow," Brittany says among an exhale, still trying to return her breathing to normal but not once breaking eye contact, not even to blink.

"I know," answers Santana, reaching to tuck a stray wisp of blonde hair behind Brittany’s ear.

"I’ve been wanting to…"

"Me too," Santana interrupts, her fingers tracing delicately along the lines of Brittany’s face, first her eyebrow, then the curve of her jaw before settling under her chin, gently nudging it forward to kiss her again. Brittany’s eyes flutter closed and Santana is falling all over again.

They kiss languidly, their tongues moving slowly together in between quick breaths and wandering hands. Brittany moves a hand to Santana’s waist, reaching around her ribcage before pressing her weight forward and swinging a leg over Santana to rest on either side of her hips. Brittany sits up and settles herself on Santana’s torso, the blankets tumbling off her shoulders as she leans slowly down over Santana, her long blonde hair a glowing curtain surrounding them.

"You are so beautiful." Santana barely realizes she says it, but lavishes in Brittany’s shy smile, the tips of her ears pinking as she moves both hands to Santana’s face and capturing Santana’s bottom lip between her teeth, running her tongue along it’s length.

Santana moans and reaches under Brittany’s loose and ratty tshirt, dragging her nails softly and slowly up and down Brittany’s sides, relishing in the unconscious shiver it elicits. Santana loses track of time, all of her senses completely consumed by the gorgeous woman on top of her, her body burning, burning.

When Brittany eventually pulls back slightly, Santana watches her tongue dart out to lick her own lips before flitting up to meet crystal blue eyes.

"What are you thinking?" Santana thinks her voice sounds so small.

"I’m thinking about you," Brittany breathes, pressing their foreheads together. "And whether this is a very good idea."

"I know." Santana can’t stop her hands from roaming the strong planes of Brittany’s body, tracing the bones of her ribcage, then down to settle in the gaps between her lower obliques, thumbs toying with prominent hip bones.

Santana knows she should be more worried, but she can’t seem to push this feeling of pure bliss and elation away, no matter the consequence. It seems Brittany is having much of the same problem, pressing their lips together once more in a chaste kiss.

"What do you think?" Brittany asks, watching Santana amid the moonlight.

"I think," Santana starts, searching for the right words. "I’ve never felt so alive."

Rachel snorts loudly into a cough a few feet away and Brittany startles quickly, slipping back into place alongside Santana in the bed in case Rachel managed to wake herself up. Santana’s rapidly beating heart doesn’t slow until a few minutes pass and the loud wheezing starts up once more from the next bed, breaking the heavy silence.

Santana turns onto her side towards Brittany, reaching to lace their fingers together.

"I just don’t want to screw any of it up," Brittany whispers as she turns to meet Santana’s stare, the worry lines returning. "We’ve worked too hard to mess it up." She pauses, and Santana forgets to breathe. "But I don’t think I can stop kissing you now that I know what it’s like. And I don’t want to."

"Me either." Relief washes her like cool water.

"But I do think we should take it slow, try and keep it quiet for now at least until we figure things out."

"Okay, Britt." Santana smiles softly before Brittany kisses her again and settles into her shoulder.

"Night, Butthead."

Santana grins against the crown of Brittany’s head and closes her eyes to sleep.

_____

Santana wakes to the sound of running water and Rachel’s muffled voice singing ABBA in the shower. She groans loudly and moves to stuff an extra pillow over her head when she finally registers the warm weight pressing into her shoulder. Brittany stirs sleepily beside her, reaching to rub at one eye and grumbling softly.

“What time is it?” she asks in a nearly incomprehensible rasp.

“Time for the early morning ‘Rachel Barbara Berry’ show.” Santana tries to sound annoyed, but Brittany is snaking a hand around her waist and burrowing into her neck and she figures there’s no use even feigning discontent. Their legs tangle together underneath the blankets.

“How many goals are you gonna score today, Hotshot?” Brittany follows up the question by pressing her lips to the hollow of Santana’s throat.

“At least two,” Santana answers distractedly, a fire building deep in her belly. “You?”

“Not sure, but I know it’ll be more than you,” Brittany teases, tickling her fingers across Santana’s side and eliciting a snorting laugh.

“You wish, Pierce.”

“Oh, I don’t wish, I _know_.”

_____

Santana regrets sitting across the table from Brittany at breakfast because she can’t stop staring and Quinn keeps catching her red-handed.

When Santana leaves the table for a second helping of bacon, Quinn follows like a shadow, elbowing Santana sharply as she reaches for another spoonful of scrambled eggs.

“Something’s going on with you,” she declares, turning fully towards Santana with a hand on her hip for emphasis. How does Quinn _always_ know? It’s infuriating. Santana decides to play it cool, raising an eyebrow.

“Did someone roofie your OJ this morning, Quinnie? ‘Cause you’re talking crazy,” she sasses, turning on a heel.

“And you’re evading!” Quinn shouts after her. “You know I’m going to find out, so you might as well just tell me!”

“Tell her what?” Rachel asks, picking absently at a bowl of fruit.

“Erm, nothing,” Santana answers awkwardly, her face burning as she has now the garnered the attention of the entire table. “Nothing to see here, get back to your breakfasts you hooligans!” she snaps, waving a hand dismissively. Brittany snickers from her place across the table and Santana’s face only gets redder as she ducks down into her breakfast in a huff.

_____

As always, Santana is the first one in the locker room before the game. Eminem is blaring through her earbuds as she parks it in front of her locker and begins to pull her pads on.

The room slowly begins to fill but Santana is already in her pre-game zone, foregoing any conversation and tuning out her general surroundings when she notices a note tucked into her right skate.

The piece of hotel notepad paper is folded into a tiny paper football, a shoddy hockey net, puck and a stick are drawn on one side and ‘ _open me_ ’ is scrawled on the other. Santana grins as she unfolds it carefully, her eyes quickly catching Brittany’s from across the locker room who is side-eying her mischievously.

Inside there’s a crude sketch of Beavis and Butthead playing hockey, a speech bubble over each of their heads reading “ _USA all the way, bitches!_ ” and “ _Let’s Finnish them!_ ”. Santana can’t help but snort at the pun before tucking the note safely back in her locker. The urge to cross the room and press Brittany against the wall is nearly overwhelming and Santana rushes to finish lacing up her skates before she does something stupid like kiss perfect Brittany Pierce in front of everyone.


End file.
